


Clumsy and Lovely

by levi_senpai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cute, M/M, Post-War, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levi_senpai/pseuds/levi_senpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Excerpt: </p><p>"I did that because I've wanted to do that since we became partners in Auror training. At first it was a nightmare. We both hated each other. For absolutely stupid reasons. But as years went by.. I just wanted that." Harry spoke softly. Like being any louder would shatter this entire moment. Harry looked up to meet Draco's gaze, instead being pulled back into a heart stopping, mind blowing kiss. Pulling back, Draco cupped Harry's face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clumsy and Lovely

Harry wasn't exactly cordinated. Actually he was the complete opposite. He tripped over his own feet, misplaced his wand several times a day, and ran into things with his glasses **on**. Of course Malfoy, the prat, had a good laugh whenever Harry would bump his head on the cupboard or slip and bust his arse on the hardwood floor in their shared three bedroom flat.

The sodding git would practically giggle with glee - for a solid six minutes - before helping him up. Like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. He'd always help Harry to the sofa and inspect the damage he'd done himself after he was done laughing his arse off, so it wasn't all that bad.

Harry, Malfoy, and Ron had all started living together about six years ago. Ever since they'd all became Aurors in training. But honestly Ron just kept his shit at the flat. Typically he'd spend the nights over at Hermione's place six days out of the week - and come _home_ when he needed fresh clothes or something of the such. Of course Harry was happy for his best friends. They were in love, and Ron was even suggesting asking Hermione to marry him. But sometimes he wished Ron would either stay home a few days out of the week, or move in with Hermione completely. It was exhausting trying to plan things like outings or going to pubs with your house mate when the prat wasn't even home most the time.

So for the most part it was simply Harry and Malfoy. If anyone would've told his younger self that one day he'd share a flat with Ron _and_ Malfoy, he probably would've laughed until tears were streaming down his cheeks. Would've told them they were a git, and that he'd _never in his life - even if someone paid him to - live with Draco Malfoy._ But here he was.

"Harry, it's a bloody shock you're still alive." Malfoy tsked as he performed a few disinfecting spells on the newest addition of cuts on his finger tips. Tiny white lines decorated the tips of his fingers and the backs of his hands, his hands seemed a lot whiter than the rest of his body.

Today Harry had been attempting at cooking dinner. He liked the muggle cooking shows, always had. He even use to watch them on the telly when the Dursleys weren't home. If they'd caught him sitting on the sofa they probably would've swatted him and withheld dinner, like he was some dirty pet who wasn't allowed on the couch and not a human child. But it had been years since he'd even seen his awful aunt and uncle. Harry and Dudley were now on somewhat good terms, although it was still awkward being around him. So now Harry watched cooking shows or read muggle cook books in his spare time, ignoring Malfoy's jokes or jabs about it. Even if his former childhood enemy teased him for his hobby, he never said no to a meal Harry cooked.

"Yeah yeah. I'm clumsy and well aware." Harry didn't even try to hide the roll of his eyes, still making sure his hands remained still so Malfoy could place the water-proof bandages over each scratch and cut.

Malfoy didn't dignify this with a response, just continued bandaging his hands up. But the smirk could be heard as clear as day within his laughter. What a tosser.

After that, Harry was thankful he could get through the rest of dinner preparation without any other accidents. He'd made something simple because Ron wouldn't be come home anytime soon. It was just him and Malfoy tonight. Placing the two plates on the table - each topped with roasted chicken, mixed vegetables with garlic seasoning, and jasmine rice - Harry called for Malfoy from the kitchen door way.

Within two minutes, after Harry had sat and begun tucking in, Malfoy swung around the kitchen door way and slid into the empty chair across from him. His white-blond hair was pushed back in wet tendrils, skin still slightly flushed from the hot shower. Malfoy really was _that pale._ Spending fifteen minutes in a hot shower would make him look like he'd just played a rough match of Quidditch for an hour. Malfoy rarely wore fancy robes around the house, so Harry was one of the lucky few to see him dressed like a real human being. Grey sweatpants and a forest green vneck clung to his slightly lanky form. But it looked good on him. After all, green definitely was Malfoy's colour.

"Bout time you show up. I slaved away all evening, harmed my fingers. All to make you a lovely dinner." Harry feigned a dramatic sniffle, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. Malfoy simply rolled his eyes, giving this grin that said 'shut up', then began eating.

Most their meals were like this. Silent, but not too uncomfortable. Unlike the rivalry they'd had in Hogwarts when they were boys, they were something close to friends now. Auror training had forced them to put aside their petty arguments and bullshit. Because if they didn't trust one another, what kind of Auror team would they be? Harry was sure one or both of them would've died by now if they hadn't put the past in the past.

"Potter, I don't know if it's because you've secretly poisoned the food and that is why you aren't eating - but are you okay?" Malfoy hummed after chewing and swallowing a mouth full of chicken and rice. Shaking his head to snap himself from his daze of thoughts, and making sure to blink a couple times for good measure - Malfoy came back into focus.

"What was that?" His eyebrows knit together, not quite understanding his words for whatever reason. Malfoy had spoken perfect English yet it just didn't registered.

"Are you okay?" Silver eyes flashed with concern and worry, two things Harry recognized well. Because there was a time where both Malfoy and Ron wore that look around him a lot. It was still odd seeing Malfoy like that. His eyes flooding with emotions he kept locked away when he wasn't home, perfectly groomed brows knit together in possible fear. Sometimes it still shocked Harry to see the _real Draco Malfoy_.

A few years after the war, when they'd only been living together for about six months - Harry had hit rock bottom pretty hard. And then he went straight through that and fell even further. The after effects of the war had taken much longer to hit him. He'd been so use to suppressing things thanks to living with hid awful aunt and uncle, sometimes he still forgot he now had people who gave a shit. That he didn't have to bottle up his emotions.

So, because he was a bit of an arse, Harry suppressed how he felt. How he was hurting still, still scared. He'd resorted to drinking quite a lot and eventually that turned into lashing out. One night still stuck vividly in the front of his mind. Like a muggle neon sign. And whenever Malfoy wore that look, the memory would come flooding back.

Malfoy and Ron had found Harry clutching a bottle of Fire Whiskey like it was his life source, sitting against the stove and murmuring to himself. Harry still remembered what he'd been saying. How he'd cried _"They're all dead because of me."_ , then started to list off all the names of their family and friends who'd died to make sure he won against Voldemort. The name still sent a chill down Harry's spine, bile threatening to rise up his throat.

When Malfoy had took the bottle from him, Harry had gotten angry. He'd swung at the blond and hit him a few good times. Once in the jaw, then twice in the chest. But instead of hexing him into oblivion - or even punching Harry back - Malfoy had just stood there and took it. He'd let Harry hit and smack his chest until he wore himself out. Then he'd collapsed against Malfoy's chest. A crying, blubbering, intoxicated mess. Ron had tried his best to help but Harry had asked him to go to Hermione's that night. Because even though Ron had experienced the war, it wasn't the same. Ron had willingly joined. Harry had appreciated all the help Ron had ever given. Harry couldn't have asked for a better best friend. But Malfoy knew how Harry felt, being forced into it and all. He knew what it felt like to have your decisions and fate decided for you before you could even walk. Malfoy had spent that night with Harry in the kitchen floor, letting him cry and snot all over his probably expensive shirt.

But he hadn't left Harry at all that night. He'd held onto him, humming gently. The vibrations through his chest had put Harry to sleep that night with ease.

"Harry?" Harry's eyes snapped instantly up, as if this were the first time Malfoy had ever used his first name. It wasn't but it was still rare. He met Malfoy's gaze, and there that look was again. His eyes were silver pools of worry and it made Harry's heart wince. He wasn't fond of making his friends worry like this. Even friends who were once enemies.

"I'm okay M-Draco." Harry cleared his throat, the taste of Malfoy's first name feeling foreign on his tongue. Draco's face softened a bit as he nodded, tucking into his food again.

When they finished dinner, Harry placed the dishes into a wash tub filled with hot soapy water in the sink. Draco still found it "midevil" that Harry washed the dishes by hand. He'd swear left and right, for hours sometimes, that there was no use in it when they had magic. With his hands submerged in the water Harry's gaze drifted off out the small window above the sink. It was early December, the snow was only just now beginning. Harry knew from years of living in the same flat, that by the end of the month they'd have at least a foot of snow building up every day.

Once the dishes were washed, dried, and put away - Harry made his way into the living area. Leaning against the door way, the sight in front of him took his breath away. He would never admit to anyone that he found Draco Malfoy beautiful. Not in the way he found Ginny or Hermione beautiful. No. It was much more than that.

When Draco was laughing, his eyes would brighten. When he smiled it was like the whole world would stop and stare too. As cliché as Harry knew that sounded. But, if Harry ever did repeat his thoughts out loud, he'd be honest and say Malfoy was at his loveliest state when he slept.

All of his features smoothed out, no snarky grin, or ridiculous comments. Although he definitely wasn't saying he hated those things. They were what made Draco himself. He wouldn't be Draco if those things were not present. His white-blond hair would fall into his face in a way that just made Harry want to brush it away. Hell the night Malfoy let him sob against his chest, Harry hadn't wanted to let go. He'd wanted to clutch onto his chest for dear life until the very end.

"Harry James Potter, it is rude to stare at a man when he sleeps.". Instantly Harry felt the hot flush of a blush creeping across his cheeks, nose, and all the way up to his ears. He tried to find the words but they just wouldn't come out. What would he say anyway? I'm sorry you are just so beautiful, I couldn't stop staring. Or maybe You looked like an angel, and I just want to caress your hair and let your head rest in my lap. So as Harry sputtered and coughed, Draco propped himself up on both hands. Harry tried his very best to look anywhere but at him. Because he'd just been caught - practically drooling like a school boy - while the man was asleep after all.

"Did I kill you?" Draco raised an eyebrow, chuckling and throwing his legs over the side of the couch.

"Sorry. I - uh. Um." Harry tapped his fingers against his leg, sock covered foot tapping as well. He couldn't find the words. No matter how hard he struggled to search for them, it was like he'd forgotten the English language.

Draco stood, padding forward until they stood in front of one another. Harry forced himself to look Malfoy in the eyes despite the fact that his nerves were screaming to run away. To hide under his duvet like a girl who'd just confessed her unconditional love for her school yard crush.

"Harry, you're being a git again by staring at me.". Something in that sentence just seemed to set something off in Harry's brain. Like suddenly a switch had been turned on and it said it's now or never.

So before his nerves could jump up into his throat, he pushed them down and acted. Harry flung his arms around Draco's neck, pulling him down the few inches that separated them and crashing their lips together. For two seconds Malfoy had stiffened but those seconds were done the moment they'd started. Draco had slowly pushed Harry's back against the wall, hands deep within the messy tangles of his black hair. His lips were rough but soft. A perfect mixture. Draco tasted like vanilla, mint, and spice. And it was oddly very fitting in every way.

The kiss ended sooner than Harry wanted it to, honestly. But Harry was thankful Malfoy didn't move away or break the space between their bodies. Draco's forehead was rested against Harry's, eyes closed in what he hoped was pure bliss.

"Harry, I want you to be honest with me. Please tell me you did that because you've wanted it for all these years - and not because you're a prat and teasing me or being a total arse." Malfoy's voice was quieter than Harry had ever heard it, like he was a scared child. Harry's only thought was to comfort him. So before he could think better of it his hand reached up and gently caressed the sharp jawline. Harry's heart climbed back into his throat when Draco leaned into his palm.

"I did that because I've wanted to do that since we became partners in Auror training. At first it was a nightmare. We both hated each other. For absolutely stupid reasons. But as years went by.. I just wanted that." Harry spoke softly. Like being any louder would shatter this entire moment. Harry looked up to meet Draco's gaze, instead being pulled back into a heart stopping, mind blowing kiss. Pulling back, Draco cupped Harry's face.

"I was really hoping you'd say that, you lovely git." The laughter in Draco's voice was infectious, spreading a smile across Harry's face. Whatever this was becoming, he liked it that was for damn sure.


End file.
